


River of Ice

by javert_is_my_poor_repressed_son



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: "Mystery Character" in Chapter 3, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst and Feels, Aro-Ace Valjean, Canon Era, I think I made Valjean demi but only if you squint, Internalized Homophobia, Internalized racism, It's done and I'm amazing, Javert needs a hug, Kinda, Like I never actually finish works, M/M, NOW it's a fix-it, Not quite a fix-it, Suicide Attempt, both are used cautiously, bridge-fic, moral of the story: people have feelings, unrequited valvert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-30
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-08-18 15:39:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8167142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/javert_is_my_poor_repressed_son/pseuds/javert_is_my_poor_repressed_son
Summary: (Originally titled "Icy Waters/Convict Angel-Born")A frigid, windy night over the rapids of the Seine. Javert finds it fitting for this to be where his life ends. There is only one man who can save him now.Instead of using his brawn, Valjean races against time to convince the poor officer of the law to spare himself his life.





	1. Javert - The Cold Inspector

**Author's Note:**

> This reads best if you read it as Valjean reminiscing.  
> I took a lot of inspiration from the Kate scene in Life is Strange. In fact, I originally included non-functioning dialog choices, but they seemed really weird so I deleted all of them.  
> Have fun! ;)

“What are you doing here, Valjean?”

Javert did not face me. I was barely able to discern his silhouette against the graying skies as he stood upon the bridge’s parapet. There he stood, voice as formidable and demanding as he’s known to be, and as solid as a statue despite the wind carrying his hair and coat in the cold night air. I had felt a sense of dread at this sight; the image of a man ready to die.

“Well? Answer me!” he pleaded, his voice cracking. Though I have seen him frustrated and unfeeling before, I have never heard him furious and desperate. I had not considered this man capable of such emotions.

“Why...why didn’t you arrest me?” I asked when I finally found my voice.

Javert paused, and eventually gave an exasperated sigh. “You’re free, just leave me alone.”

“Why are you doing this?” I called out, “Why throw away your life?”

“That is none of your concern.”

“Javert, please, come down from there!” I shouted to him.

“Go away!” he whined, “Leave me alone! I have lost the will to live, Valjean, that much is obvious, just leave me be!”

The man standing over the Seine tensed with newfound wrath. His voice became more frantic in search of release of his suffering.

“It’s not enough that you stripped me of my dignity and morality, is it?! I finally see how you plan to torture me, you demon! First you render me unable to arrest you, then you taunt me with your saintliness!” He shouted more at the heavens than at the man behind him.

“I am your willing prisoner, Javert.”

“I know, you gave me your address, for God’s sake! But surely you know that I can’t arrest you in good conscience! You saved me!”

“You are not in my debt, Javert. You never were nor ever will be. You didn’t deserve to die at the barricades, and you don’t deserve to here! Please, if this is because you couldn’t complete your job, then do so now! Arrest me, Javert, it’s what I deserve.”

“No!” he exclaimed, as if he’d been asked to murder someone. “I resigned, but even if I hadn’t, I cannot arrest you. I have spent most of my life chasing you, but I cannot bring myself to do it! It would be right by the law, but it would not be just!” He froze and made an odd noise.

I watched in horror when the noise evolved into an abortive, bitter laugh.

“Ha, imagine that! The law demanding someone to do something unjust? That sounds ridiculous, but you make everything complicated, don’t you, 24601?”

Javert fell silent as a strong tension filled the air.

“Damn you,” he finally whispered, breaking the silence. He continued, his voice rising, “Damn you, damn you, Valjean! Madeleine! Men cannot change, and yet here you are! You should be impossible! You’re a thief, a parole breaker, a forger! And yet, you’re a saint! You’re a savior, Valjean, you have saved more lives than most good men. You’re the good, merciful mayor who has never been shown mercy! How can a sinner be a saint?! You lived with scum like me, and yet you’re untouched by it. You have proven me wrong; you can rise above the gutter we’re stuck in! You made me realize that  _ I _ was the villain my entire life, and you make me ask myself-!”

The Inspector turned around swiftly enough to make me flinch. For the first time this night, I was able to see his face, and it filled me with terror. It was contorted in grief and fury, snarling, his eyes puffy from the sheer emotion behind his condemnations.

Our eyes met, and his expression softened. He looked confused, miserable, and tired. The pain was still apparent in his eyes, and he looked to be on the verge of crying. It looked wrong; it didn’t belong on him. He’s not supposed to feel this way...he was never supposed to have feelings.

“I ask myself...is...is it  _ me? _ Is there something wrong with  _ me? _ ” he asked slowly and desperately.

I was too dumbfounded to respond. He stared back up to the skies above.

“How can I go on, knowing that I’ve been wrong my entire life?”

“I am...so sorry, Javert,” I began, “I never meant to hurt you like this.”

“Of course you haven’t,” the Inspector said, staring off at a fixed point on the horizon, “A saint would never try to hurt another man.”

“I’m no saint...”

“Ha, of course you aren’t. I’m assuming normal people throw away his happiness to spare his enemy? You’re a humble saint, and all I’ve ever done for you was make your life difficult. I made you live in fear when you deserved no worse than a throne.”

The words came awkwardly from his mouth, but he seemed to be humored. However, this mood left as quickly as it came.

“Do you have any idea how you have destroyed me?” he soberly inquired.

“You have turned my entire world upside-down, Valjean. Everything I’ve had, gone. Everything I thought I knew, everything that had seemed so natural to me, it’s all wrong,” he cried, tears running down his face, “I was...wrong, Valjean. How am I supposed to arrest you in good conscience? How am I supposed to arrest  _ anyone _ in good conscience ever again? My life is over.” The last statement, he said with a note of hysteria.

My heart broke. I shouted to him, “You’re life’s not over! You were the best inspector in Montreuil-sur-Mer, you were the only one to repeatedly recognize me for what I am, you can still do so much good in the world. Please, just step back!”

He turned back to me. “You’ve ruined my life, Valjean. What am I supposed to do now?”

“Listen to me, Javert, it’s okay that you’ve made mistakes; To err is human. But you cannot possibly believe that  _ this _ is the solution to it! You have to adapt what you believe! You can go on, but you have to learn that people can change!  _ You _ can change, Javert!”

“You don’t understand, and don’t you  _ dare  _ lecture me like you know how I feel!” The inspector wailed, “No one knows how I feel! Spare me your damned pity! Why are you still here?! You should hate me! You should  _ loathe _ me! I’ve made your life a living hell!”

“I don’t hate you!”

“How couldn’t you?! Everyone hates me! I’m a worthless gypsy officer of a faulty law! I was meant to rise above my heritage, to rise above how I was created, but I failed! I’m a  _ failure _ ,” he sobbed, “I’m a failure; a worthless piece of garbage. I am lonely, Valjean. Let me die!”

“Javert-” I tried, but I did not know how to respond to that.

“ _ Please _ , if you truly are a merciful man, then just let me end my suffering!” Javert was sobbing more than shouting at this point, “I’m done with this twisted trial that God has put me through! I was born alone and different and I was destined to be outcasted, it’s only right that I die by myself!”

“You were never alone! God is there to rely on when life is hard! What about your family and your co-workers?”

“My mother was a gypsy whore who gave herself to a convicted murderer,” he spat out, “I was born in a jail and raised by the guards there. They taught me everything I knew! But even then, few of them treated me kindly, and many of them taunted me, talked about me, abused me! Even now that I’m a grown man, I see their stares! My only redeeming quality was my ability as an officer, but now I don’t even have that!”

The man flinched as he failed to steady his breathing. I was able to see that recalling this time was not helping him.

“I was created valueless, and I’ve worked hard to become a better man. But no matter how hard I try, I cannot help but revert to the gutter trash I rightfully am!” Javert looked pleadingly into my eyes. “I don’t want to live like that anymore!”

“But I’m here now,” I called out to him, “I understand how you feel. I was once an outcast, too. We can change, Javert, just please...let me help you!”

“No!” Javert shouted, but then he winced at the sudden loudness of his own voice. “No, that’s not enough.”

“There must be something I can do!”

“I know you hate me. You ought to, I have given you hell throughout the years.” I was about to once again assure him that I didn’t hate him when he added:

“Tell me, can you ever love a man like me?”

“I would be honored to call you my friend.”

Javert sniffled as he looked down. It seemed odd that he would choose now to avoid eye contact.

“You misunderstand me, Monsieur,” he said, “Could you ever love me the way that I love you? The way...that you might love a woman?”

Those words hit me with sudden realization.  _ Could I love him like that? _ I have never loved  _ anyone _ like that; I wasn’t sure if I was even able to feel that way.

“No, of course you don’t,” the other man said when the silence was unbearable, “Even if you could love a man, you could never love a man like me.”

“I disgust you. You’re silent because you don’t want to admit it, but I can see it on your face,” he accused, turning back to the river below, “I have always loved you, Valjean. It started as a stupid, sinful lust, but it grew every time we encountered one another. It became admiration, then longing. It evolved into an obsession, Valjean, a painful, unhealthy fixation on a convict who had learned to be merciful,” he struggled to continue talking as he started to uncontrollably sob, “I-I tried to stop, I swear! I punished my...myself, I pushed down my feelings, I ignored it, but it...it kept coming back! God has made me different, and...and..”

“Javert, stop!” I shouted as I took a step forward. I regretted it as soon as I did it.

“Take another step and I’ll jump!” he shouted over his shoulder.

I knew that I was running out of time. This innocent man was going to lay down his life if I did not find a way to get through to him.

“Javert, please! I’m sorry for making you feel like this...I never knew what I was doing to you!” I started to break down as well, “God loves you, Javert! It’s okay to be what you are! Love is from God, and that’s never disgusting or sinful! You don’t have to do this, Javert, please don’t do this! I don’t want you to suffer anymore, but there is a much better way than this! Please, step away from this!”

“Then you tell me, Monsieur le Maire!” he spat sarcastically, “What the hell am I to do?!”

“We can start anew. We can be friends! You don’t have to go through this alone, I’m here to help!”

“Why would you? You don’t actually mean that! If you did, then you would have reached out to me sooner!” He inched closer to the edge, “You don’t want my death on your conscience, that’s it. Why should it? It’s just. I’ve played the antagonist in your life for far too long.”

“That’s not true! I’m sorry that I haven’t realized that you...that you could be tortured in this way! I never considered you human, and that was selfish, but I know better now! I care about you, Javert.”

Javert seemed to contemplate this as he sat on the edge of the Pont au Change. “Do you honestly believe that we can live in peace?”

“I am certain of it.”

“I will corrupt you-”

“You’re not corrupt, Javert, you are perfect the way you are.”

“Even so, I will forever be a reminder to the dark past we share. We will both suffer.”

“You cannot possibly believe that.”

Javert stared to the nothingness above. He looked surreal. The younger man finally stopped shaking and looked up at the now pitch black skies, hands on his lap and his legs dangling off the edge. He had no more fears in the world.

“Aren’t the stars beautiful this night?” he said sarcastically. When I didn’t reply, he barked out some information. “Monsieur, the stars are often used to guide the lost. They are constant, unchanging, reliable. I was taught how the stars worked from a young age, and I have always used them when I felt lost. But Valjean, you are the clouds. With you, I cannot even see the North Star. Do you understand what I’m saying? Because of you, I realize that these beacons aren’t quite as reliable as I once thought.”

He reclined as he continued, “But that’s not really accurate, is it? This analogy implies that the stars existed in the first place, when they never have. If they have, then the clouds wouldn’t have obscured them in the first place,” he elaborated before looking back down at the river, “Even then, there are many who believe in omens given by the stars. I believe that God intends for me to die tonight.”

“Javert-”

“I’m sorry, Monsieur. You’re the reason why I must do this, but know that I do not blame you. Do not blame yourself,” he sounded emotionally exhausted.

“Javert-!”

“Enjoy your life. You are free,” he said, before sliding off the parapet.

“ _ JAVERT! _ ”

I rushed to the edge of the bridge, but it was too late. He was gone. I wasn’t able to believe it. I glared down at the inescapable rapids of the Seine, but there was no sign of the turbulent inspector.

I was sickened by the fact that I couldn’t save him.

He was a stoic defender of the law who had toils such as any other man. An outcast who never had the love he needed in his life. A ghost who had haunted me, and yet he deserved a much better fate than this.

But what truly sickened me was the fact that I was simply relieved that the chase was finally over.


	2. Valjean - The Fallen Angel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valjean must come to terms with the guilt he feels for the role he had in Javert's death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> JIMPRS: Oh yeah don't worry the rest of the chapters will be up within the next week/month.  
> *half a year later*  
> JIMPRS: Why do I feel like I forgot something?
> 
> I am so sorry, everyone, my senior year has so far been literal hell. I would say expect Chapter 3 soon, since I am currently writing it, but hahaha I'm not going down THAT road again. Expect it by 2019. (It probably will be up soon, but don't get your hopes up).

It has been eight months since the barricades fell. Though the other boys died, I had managed to save Marius and return him to Cosette. I originally doubted his survival, and when he was declared to be healthy once again six months later, everyone was relieved.

Except me.

He was safe and happy, and soon after, he was engaged to his true love. Cosette was happy seeing him every day, and she was scarcely with me anymore.

Javert had called me a saint and a savior. If that was true, I would not regret saving Marius and allowing Cosette to leave me.

If I was a saint, I would have also saved Javert.

He said that men could not change, but I was the exception. The past year made me realize that what he said was not true, that I am no different from any other convict. I have wished death upon two people, and one of those wishes has been granted.

I have pushed a man to suicide, and I felt relief when he died.

The guilt I felt afterward was unbearable. I told myself that I was a different man, and that I should not have felt that way. Even more damningly, I felt no relief when Marius survived. Am I to believe that a savior can regret saving innocent souls and rejoice in killing them off?

It pained me when Marius and Cosette planned to get married. Here was the child I raised, the only light in my life of despair, leaving me. It was for the best, but knowing that made me feel no better.

The dowry I presented Monsieur Gillenormand was more than enough to convince him to tolerate the wedding as well, though it seemed we both only wanted what was best for our wards.

Eventually, the wedding came, and it was as torturous as I had predicted. Cosette was ecstatic, and it was obvious that I had no place in her life anymore. 

I found Marius, and I privately told him the truth about what I was. I was not sure why I did it. Perhaps I drank too much, hoping that the reception would go faster.

Eventually, the party felt too crowded, and I was not able to stand it anymore, so I slipped out early.

The fresh air reinvigorated me, and my footsteps carried me as far away from the party as I could possibly go. It was a mistake to go to the wedding, I should have slipped out of Cosette’s life entirely.

I also should not have been drinking anything without having eaten anything within the past week. I felt sick and disoriented. 

I decide to pay a visit to the Pont au Change, so that I can finally make peace with myself. There, I lean against the parapet with my hands behind my back, fooling myself that I was drunk and pondering how I had managed to lose my shadow.

I see someone familiar standing next to me. I have trouble focusing, but I eventually make out the unmistakable face that has haunted me for decades.

“Oh, thank God. I was hoping to find you here,” I greet. Javert ignores me and continues to stare into the sky.

The stars shine brightly above, creating a majestic shimmering image on the unrelenting waves of the Seine. It is as beautiful as it is horrifying.

“It looks beautiful,” I say aloud, “Finally clear skies again! You like omens and superstitions, right? What is that supposed to mean?"

I stand there pridefully, expecting an answer that I do not receive.

“It means that you are staying, correct? You don’t need to jump anymore?”

Javert is eerily silent. Disappointedly, I continue, “You know, I had a hilarious dream last night! You see, we were back at the barricades, and remember when I saved you? Instead of that, I shot you...” I trail off when I realize that this was in no way funny, but I look up to see Javert, still unaware that I am standing next to him.

“Why are you ignoring me?” I ask, furious. I stop myself from continuing when his image turns to me, and once again, shows me the sheer amount of pain in his face. I pause.

“I am sorry, Javert,” I begin to say aloud, “I should have been kinder to you.”

I imagine him giving me a hollow stare.

“You deserved better than me,” I continue, though I am not sure exactly what I mean by that.

“You did not deserve to obsess over my capture. You did not deserve to fall in love with me! You did not deserve to be born with my kind, or to kill yourself for my sake, or to have ever even met me!”

With every statement, I feel a newfound fury bubble from my chest. I start to shout into the abyss beyond the bridge.

“Why did you jump?! You stupid, selfish coward! Did you not see that you only make everything worse?! Did you not see that you would only strip Paris of its finest law enforcer and make me grieve for you, like some depraved widow?! Did you even think about how I would feel?!”

My hands start to turn white on the wall as I shout over the river.

“You thought I would be okay just because you told me to be?! That I would rejoice when you finally died?! That I wanted you to be gone forever so that I can be free?! I didn’t want your  _ goddamn freedom _ ! I  _ want _ you  _ here _ with  _ me _ !!” I cry, pounding on the parapet.

“And now you’re gone forever, without a single thought about what your death will do to everyone else! What do I have to do for you to come back? Admit it?! Fine! Men cannot change, Javert! I am the same monster that you found at Toulon!”

I pause, though I have no idea why. Am I expecting a miracle, that he may climb out of the river as if nothing had happened? I step onto the parapet.

“There, I said it! I am a monster! I deserved to die that night, not you. I shall bring order to the world as you did, so that I may die and you may live.”

As I offer the bargain, I know that I would not be able to go through with my promises. I had not come here to commit suicide, and I was unable to push myself off. I frustratedly step down.

“What else must I do to bring you back? Curse God? Steal another loaf of bread? I would do anything if it means that I can release myself from this guilt, and that you can have your second chance to know what it’s like to be happy!”

I recall what he had wished from me, more than anything else. If there was anything that would have made him happy, it would be this:

“I love you, Javert,” I plead to the river.

“No you don’t.”

I am not sure who is answering me: Javert, the river, or myself. Still, that is the truth. I have never known the man beneath the hat well enough when he was alive, and the only person that I have felt any sort of love for was Cosette.

There is nothing that I can do to bring him back. Though I have been aware of this for the past eight months, I feel the full brunt of the realization once again. I sit with my back against the wall, unwilling to witness the magnificence of the river and be reminded of the inspector’s final living moments.

“Why did you do it?” I cry, “You were so close to redemption. God had opened your eyes to your wrongdoing so that you could have done right. Why were you not able to see that?”

“And you know what hurts me even more?” I ask to no one in particular, “The fact that if I had not followed you, I would have never known the misery that you were facing. I would not have even felt guilty if I had learned about your death. But even when I did find you, I was still unable to save you from yourself.”

I stand up once more, “And to think that I was the reason why your life was unsalvageable. As I said before, you did not deserve any of what I did to you, especially on top of the life you were forced to face.”

I once again watch the glimmering river, and the stars above that so perfectly illuminated the world, now that the officer was gone. I remember how serene he had seemed when he had explained the stars to me. I wish that I would be able to find that serenity, despite the fact that my daughter is gone from my life. Now, I can only find peace in my memories of Cosette growing up and Javert opening up to me.

“You know, you were beautiful,” I say, reminiscing Javert’s extraordinary appearance against the steely sky before he fell, “I think that was the first time I ever saw you genuinely happy about something. It is a pity that I had only recently learned how much I admired you.”

It was a miracle the emotionless inspector had figured it out at all, granted it was a different kind of admiration. If only I had cared about him as much as he had cared about me, then perhaps I might have been worthy of his love. Regardless, my remembrance of his intentions to protect me manages to elevate me.

“What did you even see in me?” I ask, grinning at the water below, “I wonder that if we met each other in another way, in another life, we might have actually fell in love with one another. If I was never arrested and if I knew how to love, we might have...you might have been happy.”

That life was not meant to be, but oddly, the idea that I now have no control over what had happened over the past twenty years is comforting. Maybe God has some grand plan for us, and if He does, then why should I obsess over something that I cannot change?

Maybe I am able to move on and become a better man. Javert would have wanted that, right?

I get on top of the parapet to say my final good-bye to Javert and to my grief. I may never fully understand what Javert was thinking, nor what he was feeling, but I feel more connected to him now. His death was not my fault, and with a growing sense of confidence, I face the Seine one final time.

I walk forward.

As a man who lived a life of lies, it is only fitting that my last thought is a lie to myself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoops, there goes THAT character.
> 
> Hello, readers! If you are here from the last chapter in September, then God bless your patience, I hope you see Fantine at the end of your life. Don't be afraid to comment saying that you loved it or that it sucked, I don't take it personally, I just personally want some interaction with you guys!
> 
> Also, all of the Valvert ideas that I mentioned before are now on makinghugospin (round 8 page 51, posts 3, 4, and 5), since I am not confident in my ability to complete them myself. After finishing this, I would rather focus my creative energy into a different project that won't go on AO3, and that I might be able to get money out of, so you probably should not expect any more fics from me after I finish this one.


	3. Javert - Reprise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You wanted a happy ending? Fine, here you go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT ISN'T 2019, I DID IT! HOLY SHIT I AM SUCH AN AMAZING HUMAN BEING I ONLY TOOK LIKE *looks at calendar* SIX MONTHS TO WRITE A CHAPTER THAT I ACTUALLY ONLY TOOK LIKE TWO TO THREE DAYS TO WRITE!  
> Thank my high school graduation for this chapter happening, because if I still had summer reading and papers to write, then I would have put this off until after my college graduation.  
> I am at a loss of words for how happy I am that I actually POSTED A FULL WORK ONLINE FOR ONCE! I am HORRIBLE at finishing stories of any kind, but this shows my progress as a person who finishes what he started. I hope you enjoy this final chapter.

“What are you doing here, Valjean?”

Javert refused to look back at the man whom he had sought for decades. He seethed in frustration as the wild river below him roared. He would not be able to face his captive here, in his final moments of life. Both men stood in a tense silence, waiting for the other to explain himself.

“Was that the name of the man who saved you?”

Javert quickly spun around toward the voice he did not recognize. One of the boys from the barricades stared back at him from the bridge. He gave the inspector a smirk.

“Good evening, Inspector. What brings you here tonight?”

Javert scoffed and turned back to the paling skies overhead to regain his composure. In an even, authoritative tone, he responded, “I’m sure that even you can see that as clear as day. What do you want?”

“Is it because of him?”

Javert, caught with his guard down, was surprised by the audacity of the revolutionary.

“That is none of your business!”

Another pause. The inspector held his glare on the student, who instead returned a look of pity. This would not do, Javert had assumed that after the kid had his fun, he would be on his way. Why was he not leaving?

“Don’t be so uptight, my dear inspector. I’m the only living person who can hear your last confessions now.”

Javert turned his back on the kid, refusing to believe what he was suggesting.

“I do _not_ need a confessor,” he assured, and after a long silence, he continued, “Will you leave me be? Go along now. Shoo!”

Though it was against the inspector’s wishes, the barricade boy made his way over to stand next to him on the edge of the bridge. At this rate, he was sure to get whatever response he desired before allowing Javert his privacy.

“I watched him let you go,” he clarified, “I did not expect that.”

“Neither did I,” the older man stated matter-of-factly.

“He must have really cared about you to risk letting you go. He would have been caught and executed if the others found out. Who was he?”

After a long pause, Javert figured that keeping silent will be meaningless in this situation.

“He was an ex-convict who broke parole. I have followed him for the past twenty years of my life in order to re-arrest him. However, I have recently discovered that he was never the evil man I had expected him to be.”

The boy paused to process this information.

“So he was innocent?”

“No, he did the crime that he was charged with, but despite that...somehow he’s perfect.”

Javert took a moment to look at the other person, and he was greeted with a searching expression.

“You know, I’ve fallen in love recently,” the boy said, out of the blue.

“...Okay,” he hesitantly responded, “Is there a reason why you have felt the need to confide this in me?”

With his eyes glued to the horizon, he recited, “ _ Hearts cannot rest when their eyes meet the face / Of certain beautiful, angelic blondes. / Smitten was I, found in witness of love; / Confidence, purity, compassion beyond. _ ”

Javert stood awkwardly. He could not possibly jump to his doom when this random love-struck fool was pouring his heart out to him, could he? As he was seriously considering this, he recognized a scent that he was too distracted to notice.

“Are you...are you  _ drunk _ ?!” he snapped in disbelief.

“You would be too if you were in the presence of such unmatched perfection.”

Javert rolls his eyes at the gushy romantics, envious at the kid’s ability to love a woman like that. “And just where is this fair maiden?”

“He died on our barricade earlier today,” the revolutionary explained with a sullen expression.

The inspector stared in shock.

“You...?”

“It’s funny, I’m sure that my love for him was obvious, but I still feared the day when he realized it, kicked me out, and never spoke to me again,” he explained with a helpless grin, “Y’know what? I never even believed in this stupid revolution. But seeing Enjolras so passionate about something so stupid...”

A few moments passed in silence as the two men watched the waves of the Seine crash under foot.

“I watched him die,” the younger man declared. Javert felt very uncomfortable. “I had drunk myself dumb the previous night, certain that by morning, we were all dead. My cowardice had saved me, but had doomed me in another way.”

Javert was certain that the tangent was over, but before he could put a word in, the revolutionary continued, “And y’know what he told me, when I confessed my feelings? What he used his dying breath to say?”

Without much of an affirmation, he finished, “He told me that he felt the same way. And now he’s dead.”

“He died a traitor.”

“That he did. A beautiful traitor.”

“And that brings you here now,” the older man finished after piecing together the situation he had found himself in.

In response, the younger man gave a helpless laugh, “Was I that transparent?”

For the first time that night, Javert smiled, “Well, it would be a lie for me to say that I cannot relate.”

“So you do love him.”

“What? No, I–” He had said too much, but as his words left him, so too was a breath that he had been holding in for far too long. Javert figured that they had, strangely enough, common ground, and decided to confide what he had kept secret his entire life, “I do not think that love is the right word for it.”

The ex-revolutionary stared at him, then through him.

“Do you admire him?”

“Yes.”

“Do you long for him...”

“Wha–Well...yes.”

“Do you want him to be happy.”

“...more than anything.” After all, that was why he was on the Pont au Change.

The boy smiled at him, “Call it what you will, but it’s love.”

The two men stood side by side on the parapet in understanding.

“You do know that suicide is illegal,” Javert breached, earning a hearty laugh from the other man.

“That didn’t stop you from coming here!”

“Well,” the inspector began, but he did not have anything to respond to that with. He felt unease with being reminded of the fallacy of the law that he had lived by his entire life.

“The view is breathtaking,” the revolutionary interrupted the other man’s thoughts.

“The stars are not out tonight.”

“So? You don’t need stars to make something look pretty. There’s beauty in everything if you look for it.”

“They are not just there to look ‘pretty’. They lead the way to the lost, so that they may find their ways home.”

“But the best experiences happen when you’re lost! I mean, if you spend your life always trying to go home, then are you really living in the first place?”

This struck a very specific chord with the inspector. The stars were as flawed as the laws of France, where they might vanish from sight, or might not lead you to where you want or need to be. But maybe this was not such a bad thing as Javert had initially thought.

“Valjean is still alive.”

This statement interrupted the inspector’s thoughts so abruptly and with such gravity that he was almost certain that the other man had declared Valjean to be dead.

“Hm? Yes, what of it?”

“You should confess to him.”

“What?! No...no, I should not.”

“Why not?”

“Why would someone as perfect and holy as he ever hope to love a man like me?”

“Inspector Javert, would you kindly explain to me why Enjolras, the blond boy you saw on the barricade, ever fall for a man like  _ me _ ?”

He gave him a once over and was forced to admit to himself that he was neither the most pleasant looking, nor the most put-together looking of the revolutionaries.

“Tell him that you love him when he’s still alive.”

Javert nodded and stepped down from the parapet. He turned back to the revolutionary, silhouetted against the black night sky.

“Come with me.”

“What?” the drunk asked in disbelief, “Why?”

“Why?” the old man repeated, “Monsieur Revolutionary...”

“Grantaire,” the boy corrected.

“Monsieur Grantaire, you cannot mean to tell me that after everything you have done for me, that I would leave you here to die.”

“It’s not your decision.”

“It is not, but still I hope that you will follow me and take your own advice.”

“And what advice is that?”

Javert started walking back to the busy streets of Paris, trusting the younger man to follow him, “That the best times in your life happen when you do not know what the hell you have left to live for.”

* * *

 

Both men stood at the door of No. 7 Rue de l'Homme-Armé, waiting for a ghost to answer the knock placed minutes prior. They had waited for several minutes in the blazing heat of June, though Javert did not mind. Looking up, he saw that the skies had cleared up, and he was granted one more view of the dazzling stars that he would have missed if he had jumped into the roaring rapids of the Seine.

When the door opened in front of him, he caught a glimpse of an even more wonderful sight, and the old man’s heart ached in a way that he had never felt before.

“I have been expecting this to happen,” Valjean began, “Have your way with me and be done with it.”

“Excuse me?” Javert questioned as heat flooded his face.

“You have come to arrest me, have you not?”

_ Ah yes _ , the inspector chided himself,  _ last we spoke, I had promised to turn him in _ .

“This is awkward,” Grantaire muttered under his breath, “I’ll be over there.”

Once the revolutionary left, Javert explained himself.

“No, Valjean, I have not come to arrest you. Your secret is safe with me.”

The ex-convict looked as if he had just witnessed Javert transform into a cat.

“Then why are you here?”

“I have come to tell you...” The inspector cursed himself for both the butterflies in his stomach and the anxiety that hadn’t affected him when he stared down the barrel of a pistol, but strangely had a strong grip on him now. He took a deep breath and started over.

“Valjean, you have saved my life, and for that I am eternally in your debt.”

“You owe nothing to me,” the older man had predictably interrupted. Javert grinned at this immaculate kindness, and was suddenly conscious of his own state. He had lost his trusty hat at the Pont au Change (though he had the sneaking suspicion that Grantaire had accidentally kicked it off the bridge), his beard had not been groomed since he was first taken captive, and he was sure to reek of the sewer. Still, he braved forward with his newfound drive.

“I know that I do not, though it has occurred to me that I have treated you neither justly nor kindly in the past twenty years that we have known each other, and I would like to fix that now.”

“Why now?”

“Because, Valjean, you made me realize the error in my ways. You are not the person who I thought you were, and I deeply admire you.”

He seemed surprised, but at the same time, overjoyed. Javert knew that he still could not believe that he was truly free. 

“As do I,” Valjean returned.

“I’m afraid not in the same way that I do. Jean Valjean, I love you,” Javert declared.

The older man gave him a dumbfounded look, but the younger one elaborated, “I always have. It started out as lust in Toulon, but it grew to be something more...something that I couldn’t allow myself to feel because it was wrong. I know that I just ruined any chance that I had to be your friend, but Grantaire here, he told me to tell you how I felt when you were still alive. If you want nothing more to do with me, I’ll leave, but I needed to tell you that.”

“Hush Javert,” Valjean laughed, “there is nothing wrong with loving someone, I just never imagined you to be the kind of man who ever would.”

They stood in the doorway in comfortable silence.

“You are a good man, Javert,” he said, and when Javert denied it, he started over, “You are a good man, Javert. I would be honored to be your friend. But I am not sure that I can return your love. I have never loved anyone that way, you see. I am not even sure if I am capable of it.”

“Friendship is more than I deserve,” the inspector admitted.

“Nonsense,” Valjean reassured, then he turned to Grantaire, “Both of you shall rest here for the night, I can tell neither of you have had a moment’s rest since the revolution.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The plot twist in this chapter was that no one actually died this time. I apologize for the Cat Javert (by Alexandra_Ace_Dorothy) reference, but it could not have been helped.  
> Thank you to drowninginchamomiletea for motivating me and betaing my rough draft.  
> Thanks to an irl friend, Jess. They always beta this fic and they are indispensable.  
> Thanks to everyone who actually read this, too! Every comment is cherished <3


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